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She jWattti ot tilt f etenth ffieift. 


A SERMON 


ON 


THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD; 


DELIVERED IN 


f* eafivw* 


ON SUNDAY, JUNE, 9th, 1861, 


BY 


S. H. WESTON, D. D., 

ASSISTAXT MINISTER OF TRINITY CHURCH, CHAPLAIN OF THE SEVENTH REGIMENT. 


PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION OF 

THE VETERANS OF THE NATIONAL GUARD. 


18 6 1 . 











































M\u fjjMtlt of the Seventh gteifi 


♦ 


A SERMON 

ON 

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD; 

DELIVERED IN 



P 




9 


ON SUNDAY, JUNE, 9th, 1861, 

BY 

S. H. AVESTON, D. D., 

>/ 

ASSISTANT MINISTER OF TRINITY CIIURCII, CHAPLAIN OF THE SEVENTH REGIMENT. 


PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION OF 

THE VETERANS OF THE NATIONAL GUARD. 


18 6 1 . 








* 






I 


FRANCIS & LOUTREL, 

Steam Job Printers and Manufacturing Stationers, 

45 Maiden Lane, N. Y. 






SERMON 


“The Lord is thy Keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy 
right hand. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy 
coming in ; from this time forth and even for evermore.”— 
Rsl. 121, 5 and 8 v. 

It is readily conceded, even by thoughtless, irre¬ 
ligious men, that the Supreme Being exercises a 
general supervision over the affairs of this world. 
They can see the moving of His hand in all great 
events—such as the rise and fall of empires, signal 
blessings or calamities. But they lack the faith to 
discern His oversight in minor matters, and in each 
individual case. They readily conclude, indeed, that 
great men, the leaders of nations, are His instru¬ 
ments, but are skeptical as to the agency of obscure, 
humble persons. But not only is God cognizant of 
whole nations, but of every person in this nation; 
“ The Lord is thy keeper ” says the Psalmist. And 
not only does He watch over us in all the moment¬ 
ous and grave affairs of our life, but even seemingly 
the most trivial and unimportant. “The Lord 



( 4 ) 


shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in.” 
He is about our paths and about our bed, and 
spieth out all our ways; when we lie down in peace 
to take our rest, it is He only that maketh us to 
dwell in safety. “ Thou hast covered my head in 
the day of battle.” 

My Brethren: 

We propose this morning to make an application 
of this consoling doctrine of our text, to what has 
recently transpired. I have been away from you 
several weeks, I trust employed in the service of my 
Master, and in what occurred during my absence 
you all seem deeply interested. I am often eagerly 
interrogated on the events which have taken place, 
and make the same answers many times a day. 

From the deep feeling evinced, I have ventured 
to presume that many of the exciting scenes through 
which we have passed, might prove both interesting 
and edifying, and not unworthy the sanctity of this 
holy place. Desirous of avoiding even the appear¬ 
ance of egotism, or indulging in what might be 
construed into undue eulogy on that noble body of 
men to which I am proud to belong, yet even at 
that risk, I am not willing to forego the opportu¬ 
nity of improving an occasion, which, I think, in a 
most signal manner illustrates the doctrine of our 
text, while at the same time I deem it every way 
proper to satisfy a laudable interest in the Holy 
Cause we all have so much at heart. 


( 5 ) 

First , then, the protecting care and mercy of 
an overruling Providence was shown at the very 
commencement of the brief Campaign, for it was 
a campaign in the estimation of the highest mili¬ 
tary authority, and whatever diversity of opinion 
may exist elsewhere, the Seventh “ did the State 
some service, and they know it.” 

The regiment, you remember, left New York, 
April the 19tli, with the intention of passing 
through Baltimore. 1 believe it was known to 
the officers and to most of the men, though not to 
the public generally, that a terrible riot had just 
taken place at that city. In a few hours the regi¬ 
ment expected to arrive there, and if the faces of 
the soldiers looked pale as they marched down 
Broadway, as was remarked by friends, it was the 
pallor of determination, and not of fear. It was 
only on arriving at Philadelphia, that we learned 
that the communication was cut off by the de¬ 
struction of bridges and the tearing up of rails, and 
that it would be impossible to reach Baltimore, ex¬ 
cept by marching, which would have consumed too 
much valuable time. And here, we religiously be¬ 
lieve, was demonstrated the doctrine of our text, 
the care of an overruling Providence. The insur¬ 
gent city was in a terrible ferment; exasperated to 
madness by what had just transpired—expecting 
their houses to be laid in ashes by the next body 
of advancing troops. Even Union men united with 
rebels and fanatics in the resolution to dispute our 
passage, to the bitter end. On the streets through 


( 6 ) 

which we would have to march, every house was 
converted into a fortress tilled with armed men, 
and even howitzers hoisted into the second stories 
to sweep the avenues with grape-shot. Under such 
circumstances, we should have been at their mercy, 
and had we attempted the passage, as would have 
most certainly been done had not the communica¬ 
tion been destroyed, the regiment would have been 
received with a storm of fire they could but very 
imperfectly have returned. Had we been able 
then, to reach the city, the startling reports "that 
convulsed all New York, would have proved too 
true, and it was no doubt in the anticipation of 
such a bloody catastrophe, that they originated— 
“ the wish was father to the thought.” 

On the 20th, in Philadelphia, the regiment was 
placed in a most embarrassing position. We 
could not move by Baltimore ; no orders could be 
obtained from Washington; the wires were in the 
possession of our enemies; and our Colonel was 
doubtful how to act. In this emergency a council 
of war was held, and it was determined to proceed 
by sea. Accordingly at half-past 4 p. m., we em¬ 
barked on the steamer Boston, the best that could 
be procured, arid resolved to be guided by circum¬ 
stances. From this moment until our arrival at 
the Junction, I believe we were in constant peril, 
and I confess my heart bled as the young, ardent 
faces filed by me to take their places on board. I 
acknowledge I had serious misgivings as to the 
issue. The boat was old and small, and even in 


( f ) 

smooth water careened so that the men had to be 
moved from side to side to keep her on an even keel. 
How so many could be crowded into such narrow 
quarters is still to me a mystery; and a gentleman 
familiar with such operations, declared to me, on 
our return, that he could not have conceived it 
possible to convey so large a body of troops 
with such a transport. Fortunately we had calm 
weather and a smooth sea, the like of which the 
pilot declared he had rarely seen. What would 
have been the result in the event of a heavy storm 
it is fearful to contemplate. The lower hold, filled 
with men, was almost unendurable; with the 
hatches on, it would have been a “ Black Holer 
But “ He who measureth the waters in the hollow 
of his hand,” was our Protector and Guide. 

Another danger to which we were exposed was, 
we had no convoy. We had to pass by hostile coasts 
—we had heard of the fitting out of privateers— 
the enemy knew we were coming, and that, cut off 
from the land route, we must go by sea. They 
would, therefore, be on the alert. We were, no 
doubt, under their glasses almost from the hour of 
leaving; and a steam tug, with a single gun, might 
have captured or destroyed us. One shot would have 
disabled our machinery, and then it would have re¬ 
mained either to surrender or sink. In the crowded 
state of our vessel, every ball that passed through 
her must have caused fearful loss of life. 

Arriving off the mouth of the Potomac, we- 
looked eagerly around for a man-of-war to convoy 


( 8 ) 

us to Washington ; nor can I yet understand how, 
in so fearful an emergency, such a precaution was 
neglected. Every boat we hailed reported every 
thing in the hands of the secessionists; and if the 
enemy meditated an attack on the Capital, it was 
not likely they would permit a thousand men to 
go to its relief, when a single gun on the banks of 
the river could have barred our passage. Could 
we have ascertained the position of the batteries, 
we could have, perhaps, landed, and stormed 
them; but it would have been an easy matter to 
mask them until we were under their fire, and 
then resistance, at the best, would have been mad¬ 
ness. Still, under all these disadvantages, it was 
decided to proceed, and I retired to rest that, night 
with the expectation of being awakened by the 
crash of a cannon ball through our bulwarks and 
the cries of wounded men. 

During the night, however, it seems our course 
was altered, and the dawn of day disclosed the 
distant city of Annapolis. Even here our approach 
was cautious, for the city might be in the posses¬ 
sion of the enemy, and a swift steamer linking 
there, ready to dart out on its prey. But the sight 
of the “ brave old flag ” streaming from the mast¬ 
head of the Constitution frigate, which the Eighth 
Massachusetts Regiment had towed out, as she was 
about to be seized by a party of rebels from Balti¬ 
more*—this flag re-assured us. Never did the Stars 

* Their fathers, they said, had built her, and they were de¬ 
termined to preserve her. 


( 9 ) 

and Stripes seem so dear to us, we never before 
realized how much we loved them, and at the 
sight there went up a cheer from our gallant men 
that made the welkin ring again. 

The Eighth Massachusetts Regiment left Phila¬ 
delphia a few hours before us, and at Havre-de- 
Grace had seized the steamer Maryland, and ar¬ 
rived in advance. In towing out the Constitution 
they grounded, and when we arrived, these brave 
men had been confined on their steamer for twenty- 
four hours, without food or drink; some in their 
agony drank salt water, and became delirious. We 
consumed half a day in attempting to tow them 
off, and were at last compelled to land our own 
regiment, and then send back the Boston to land 
the Eighth. 

We found the Naval School of Annapolis in 
hourly expectation of an attack, as the whole coun¬ 
try round was in possession of secessionists. But 
we were once more on land, where the Seventh, if 
attacked, could manoeuvre and defend themselves, 
and thus were we mercifully brought by an over¬ 
ruling Providence, to the haven where we would 
be; and never did I utter a more hearty “Thanks¬ 
giving for a safe return from sea.” We all realized 
the fulfilment of the promise, “When thou passest 
through the waters I will be with thee, and 
through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee ” 

But in Annapolis we were yet a weary way off 
from our destination. Still not a word from Gov¬ 
ernment—the telegraph torn down—the locomo- 


( 10 ) 

t.ive disabled—the rails displaced—the bridges de¬ 
molished—and the road reported in possession of 
the enemy. Our position was still critical and 
trying. It was the original intention to march for 
Washington immediately on landing, as the Capi¬ 
tal, if not already captured, was supposed to be in 
great peril; and here, for a third time, there seems 
to have been an interposition of God in our behalf. 

From what has since transpired, I have no doubt 
had we marched on the evening of our arrival, 
not more than half or two-thirds of the regiment 
would have reached Washington; indeed such 
was the opinion of the United States officers at 
the Academy. 

Five minutes after we had landed, the officer in 
command of the Naval School informed me, that 
if we made a forced march, we might possibly carry 
two-thirds of our number through ; the wounded, 
he added, we would be compelled to leave on the 
road, and as the enemy were not exasperated, the 
fallen left behind would not be maltreated; yet 
all declared we would meet with a warm reception. 
But though the men were eager, it was decided not 
to move that night. They were suffering from fa¬ 
tigue—they had been on an allowance of w r ater— 
they left New York with one day’s rations, and 
their food had been poor in quality and deficient 
in quantity; the road, unknown to us, was familiar 
to the enemy; night, a potent auxiliary, would have 
given him a fearful advantage. It was finally con¬ 
cluded on the morrow to hold Annapolis, to make it 


( 11 ) 

tlie basis of military operations, and open the road 
to Washington. Tlie rails had been torn up for 
miles, but the Eighth Massachusetts Regiment—a 
noble body of men, commanded by Gen. Butler, a 
brave man—commenced to lay them down and re¬ 
pair the engine. Intimidated by numbers, the rebels 
did not molest them. Late on the evening of the 
23d inst., the discharge of a rocket from the Consti¬ 
tution, followed by the report of a cannon, gave the 
signal of unfriendly visitors in the Bay. The 
drums immediately beat to quarters, and in just 
seven minutes from the first tap, the Cadets, the 
Eighth Massachusetts and the National Guard were 
in line-of-battle, ready for action. It proved a false 
alarm, but I am convinced, from what I subse¬ 
quently learned, that it saved us from molestation, 
if not from a battle, on our morrow’s march. 

The vessels proved to be friendly, loaded with 
troops. They came to take our place and hold the 
city. Accordingly on the morrow—the 24th of 
April—at four o’clock in the morning, before the 
new-comers had landed, the 6th and 2d Com¬ 
panies, and the Engineer Corps, marched as an ad¬ 
vance guard, the Eighth Massachusetts followed, 
and at ten the main body of the National Guard 
moved. The morning was one of the most sultry 
I can remember, and the men suffered terribly, 
marching, as they did, on the railroad, often be¬ 
tween high banks; not a breath of air could reach 
them, while the sun was intensely warm, and they 
loaded with heavy knapsacks. 


( 12 ) 

By dark the Seventh was in advance of the 
Eighth, after having rebuilt a large bridge which 
had been destroyed. Of the sufferings of that 
night’s march I need not speak. A shower had 
drenched the men and changed the atmosphere ; 
it was cold, and the men could not march fast 
enough to keep themselves tv arm, it being ne¬ 
cessary, every few minutes, to halt the whole body 
to lay rails. 

Hungry, thirsty, cold, weary, in constant ex¬ 
pectation of an attack, the Seventh toiled on with¬ 
out a murmur, dragging the two howitzers by 
hand, and as fast as the poor fellows fell from ex¬ 
haustion, often insensible, they were put on the 
Surgeon’s car, and dragged by hand also; this 
having become necessary, as we were now cut off 
from our locomotive, by a break we could not 
repair. Three times did I lift a soldier of the 
Massachusetts Begiment, after he had fallen, and 
at last left him on the ground, in the care of his 
companions; and when, at last, the dawn broke on 
our weary line, I could scarcely recognize my inti¬ 
mate friends, so pale, so haggard, and altered, did 
they look in the cold morning light. 

Fires were now built along the line, to warm 
the men. The adjoining fences furnished the fuel, 
but the proprietor was sent for and amply remu¬ 
nerated, and at war prices. The men rummaged 
their knapsacks for any remaining piece of raw 
meat, and scoured the neighborhood for food; and 
under other circumstances, it would have been 


( 13 ) 

amusing to see the tired soldiers drop asleep while 
conveying it to their mouths. Sleep was even 
more imperative and exacting than hunger. Re¬ 
suming our march, in a short time we were at the 
Junction, which we found in possession of the Fede¬ 
ral troops, and were soon on our way to Washing¬ 
ton, by rail. 

It was there I saw, and heard read, a mass of 
captured telegraj)hic despatches, in which was dis¬ 
closed the plan for cutting off the Seventh, by 
destroying the bridges, removing the rails, and 
charging with cavalry through every cross road 
they were to pass. The plan was admirably con¬ 
ceived, and I afterwards learned in Washington 
why it was abandoned. It seems the Colonel of 
the body of the enemy’s horse (some 500 strong) 
had been sent in disguise to Annapolis, to watch 
our movements. He was there on the eve of our 
march, and saw the rapid formation of the troops 
in order of battle, when the alarm was given to 
which I have before alluded. He returned and 
reported it was inexpedient to attack. This infor¬ 
mation I had direct from a Union man, who had 
fled from Maryland, and who received it from a 
friend, a member of the enemy’s cavalry; so the 
information was sufficiently authentic and direct. 
Hence the reported destruction of the Seventh, 
from the Charleston papers. They reported as 
done, what was so well planned and confidently 
anticipated. The rebels may have been deterred, 
too, by the knowledge of masses of troops in the 


( 14 ) 

rear, which had just arrived by the Baltic and 
other transports. 

The wisdom and prudence of our delay at An¬ 
napolis were now apparent. Had the National 
Guard been cut to pieces, as they might have been, 
had we marched on the night of our arrival, not 
only w r ould New York have been clothed in 
mourning, but a severe blow would have been 
given to our cause all over the land, and Washing¬ 
ton would probably have fallen into the hands of 
the insurgents. Again and again was I informed 
by high military authority, that our Capital could 
have been captured by a thousand resolute men. 
The authorities knew not whom to trust — men 
sworn in and furnished with arms would desert— 
and the city was filled with traitors; and aside 
from the enemy in Virginia, there were foes in 
their midst sufficient to have taken possession of 
the place. I cannot describe to you the raptures 
of joy with which we were received at Washing¬ 
ton—old men hailed us as deliverers and wept 
like children. They had been long looking for us, 
and u hope deferred had made the heart sick,” but 
when the Seventh wheeled into Pennsylvania Ave¬ 
nue there was one long sigh of relief. The in¬ 
habitants felt (for the present at least) they were 
safe, and that night men slept soundly, who had 
not done so for many anxious days. 

Of the importance of the march to Washington, 
perhaps it does not become me to speak; I might 
be a partial narrator. But sober history will as- 


( 15 ) 

sign it its proper place in its future pages. The 
Seventh marched at a few hours’ notice—marched 
with one day’s rations—marched expecting battle 
—marched at a moment when the Executive arm 
was literally cut off from its body, the North and 
the West—marched when the Government were 
in utter ignorance of the spirit of the loyal States, 
and did not know whether they were to be sup¬ 
ported or not. At this critical moment, when the 
seat of Government was menaced by an unscrupu¬ 
lous foe, they responded to the call made on them, 
in greater numbers of the original members than 
ever appeared on any gala day, at any period 
since their formation. Less than this I cannot say. 
I might say much more. I might make compari¬ 
sons, but I forbear. Where all are patriotic—self- 
sacrificing— brave — let all petty rivalries, mean 
jealousies and unmanly detractions be laid, at this 
solemn hour, as a sacrifice on the altar of our com¬ 
mon country. Let the only emulation be, who 
shall best serve his country. Suffice it to say, the 
Seventh, aided by the immortal Eighth of Massa¬ 
chusetts (whom the descendants of the heroes of 
Bunker Hill well know how to honor), to whom 
a word in our disparagement would be very un¬ 
safe, opened a road from the loyal States to their 
Capital, and, as a distinguished citizen of that 
State remarked to me, “broke the back-bone of 
secession in Maryland for ever.” 

Nor can I here forbear saying one word in com¬ 
mendation of our judicious commander. It would 


( 16 ) 

have been easy for him to have incurred foolish 
risk—to have put his regiment in unnecessary 
peril—to have made daring experiments—to have 
furnished brilliant paragraphs for the press—to 
have criminally sacrificed his men, and furnished 
material for pictorial sheets. But he was entrusted 
with a higher and more important mission than 
to create a sensation, and minister to a morbid 
taste. He was to take care that the Republic re¬ 
ceived no harm. That “ discretion is the better part 
of valor” has become a synonym of ridicule; but 
it is a great truth, and one on which, I believe, 
the greatest captain of this age, and the most hu¬ 
mane too, is conducting probably his last, and we 
hope his most splendid, campaign. We declare 
then, as our deliberate opinion, that our Colonel 
deserves, as he has won, not only the thanks of 
his superiors, but also the gratitude of every 
father, mother, wife, child, brother and sister of 
the members of the National Guard. 

Napoleon Buonaparte once ordered a charge, to 
gratify the caprice of a beautiful lady who wished 
to see something of War; and as he gazed on the 
dead—sacrificed for an idle whim-—he declared 
he regretted that rash order more than any act of 
his life. When the Light Brigade—the famous 
six hundred—made their mad charge at Balaklava, 
the French, the most dashing soldiers in the world, 
exclaimed, as they swept by, “ This is very splen¬ 
did, but it is not War”* No, a well ordered 

*“C’est tres magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre.” 


( 17 ) 

retreat even, may be more serviceable than a bar¬ 
ren triumph. Many a rash commander lias had 
reason to exclaim with the ancient captain, “Alas, 
another such victory and I am undone.” The 
true soldier contends not for brilliant momentary 
success, but for solid and lasting results. He de¬ 
serves best of his country, humanity and religion, 
who insures success while he spares the effusion 
of blood. 

And here we cannot refrain from noticing the 
mercy of Providence in the preservation of the 
health of the soldiers. This feature has been a 
matter of wonder even to medical men. At Camp 
Cameron for several days and nights the exposure 
was terrible! Our encampment was called Mount 
Pleasant, but for a time, this was a palpable mis¬ 
nomer. It rained incessantly—the weather cold— 
the tents were without floors—the men, without 
beds, were compelled to lie down (many of them 
drenched to the skin from being on guard) in the 
wet, rank clover. The hospital was soon filled 
with invalids, and I can only attribute their rapid 
recovery to their youth, spirits, temperate habits 
and the skill of our excellent medical staff. 

When we marched into Virginia, it was in some 
respects still worse, though the weather was propi¬ 
tious. At two o’clock in the morning of May 25tli 
we crossed the Long Bridge into Virginia. It was 
a sublime spectacle. The silent tramp of ten thou¬ 
sand men hardly aroused the sleeping inhabitants 
of Washington. Three thousand men moved by 
8 


( 18 ) 

me like phantoms; not a beat of the drum, not a 
word exchanged. The profound silence was more 
emphatic and expressive than the most noisy de¬ 
monstration. Each man felt he was engaged in the 
discharge of a stern and solemn duty. Once across, 
the tired men threw themselves down on the grass 
in the dust and slept, in every conceivable position, 
the deep sleep of the exhausted. Many were with¬ 
out even their blankets, and during our stay on 
the other side of the Potomac, in the heavy dew T s, 
our only canopy was the heavens. On the 27th, we 
returned to our old camp, in a rain that drenched 
every man to the skin, and yet, though there 
were twelve hundred and thirty names on our 
muster-roll, we brought or sent home every man 
but one, alive, and nearly every one in good health. 
Alas, for the exception. A widowed mother and 
a fond young wife, mourn to-day their untimely 
loss; one gallant spirit that went from them buoy¬ 
ant with health, glowing with patriotic fire, and 
eager to win an honorable name in the service of 
his beloved land. But let them be comforted. He 
fell in the discharge of his duty; his memory is 
embalmed in the hearts of his comrades that loved 
him so well: and it is sweet to die for ourcountry. 

Lastly .—There is one other feature to be noticed 
which illustrates our text, viz: the religious inter¬ 
est which was awakened. On board the Boston, 
on the first Sunday, we had the full service of the 
Church and a sermon; the music, conducted by a 
member of the congregation of St. John’s chapel, 


( 19 ) 

was excellent; as it was, indeed, throughout our 
entire absence. At Annapolis several hundred 
Testaments (containing the Psalms,) were dis¬ 
tributed. They were eagerly sought for, and 
there were not enough to supply the applicants. 

It was at once touching and gratifying to observe, 
during a halt, the men reading their Testaments, in 
some instances by single individuals, in others, 
groups listening with the most marked attention; 
and no doubt many a fervent prayer was offered up 
in silence by the weary soldiers, for danger makes 
men grave and serious, and they no doubt realized 
that loved ones at home were praying also. I have 
since learned that friends, comprehending their 
danger, would meet and send mutual messages to 
their dear ones, that they might never see more; 
for we expected to meet the enemy in full force at 
the Junction, and on the march I was assured by a 
Union man of the neighborhood, that he knew from 
personal knowledge, three thousand men with can¬ 
non were awaiting our coming. 

At Washington several hundred additional Tes¬ 
taments arrived, and were at once called for. I 
also wrote to New York for five hundred Prayer- 
Books, which were kindly donated and forwarded 
by Mr. Butler. A clergyman in Washington also 
gave a large number, and yet there were not enough 
to satisfy the demand. On the fly-leaf of these 
books I wrote, by request, the names of the pos¬ 
sessors, with my own; the date, the place, etc., and 
you may be sure I was kept busy. Many had 


( 20 ) 

brought their Prayer-Books and Bibles with them, 
but all were anxious to possess another, as a me¬ 
mento of the campaign. One father sent five sons 
to the war, all in one company ; each applied for a 
Prayer-Book, and two additional ones for their pa¬ 
rents at home. The second service was held in the 
Capitol, and the attendance as usual was large, 
though the men were worn out by fatigue. 

At Camp Cameron service was held every Sun¬ 
day, in the open air, though the daily duties of 
the camp (which were severe) were never omitted. 
What with drill, guard duty, cooking, and attend¬ 
ing service, the men were kept sufficiently busy. 
The last Sunday was spent in Virginia, though 
we had expected to be back at our old camp. 
Indeed, it was not until the last moment that I 
learned to the contrary, and therefore had made 
no preparation. Our Colonel thought it inex¬ 
pedient to have service, as guard mounting and 
sending details to the trenches, together with the 
possibility of an attack, threatened to interfere; 
but he kindly left it to my discretion. We began, 
therefore, prepared to leave off at a moment’s no¬ 
tice. The service and sermon were necessarily 
short, but we were not interrupted, and at the 
close, the men went with alacrity to work in the 
trenches, many of them without their dinners. 
They justly thought it no violation of Sunday. 
To dig they were not ashamed, and felt that, 
under the circumstances, they were serving God 
as acceptably as in prayer and praise; and if they 


( 21 ) 

brought back no bullet or bayonet wounds, their 
scarred hands showed that they had done good 
service with spade and pick. Indeed, throughout 
the entire period, the behaviour of the regiment 
was creditable to them, as gentlemen, soldiers and 
Christians. The trials and dangers through which 
they have passed I am sure have chastened their 
hearts, made them wiser and better men, and pro¬ 
duced impressions that will not soon be effaced; 
and, indeed, many came to me, and declared they 
should never forget them. If never before, they 
now realize what it is to pray in earnest. 

Brethren, how this unnatural contest is to end, 
Omniscience only knows; unless He interferes to 
overrule the wrath of man, it threatens to be one 
of the most disastrous in the annals of time. But 
we have put our hand to the plough and .cannot 
look back. We hope the Government will adopt 
no narrow or mercenary policy, and accept no dis¬ 
honorable compromise. The people are ready to 
do their part, and such a remarkable and unex¬ 
ampled unanimity of sentiment in the North and 
West, under the circumstances, seems like an au¬ 
gury from God, and an earnest of success. We 
can afford to expend one hundred—nay, one thou¬ 
sand millions, if need be. A grateful posterity 
will cheerfully pay the debt. A vigorous display 
of our resources and courage now, may be econo¬ 
mical in the end, and save us from long internal 
dissensions and a future foreign war. Let us stop 
at no proper sacrifice of money or men, or regard 


( 22 ) 

any peril too imminent, or sacrifice too great, to 
accomplish this glorious result. 

We have for long years been enjoying the bene¬ 
fits of our fathers’ toils and sufferings. Let us re¬ 
solve to bequeath to posterity a similar legacy. 
We believe God is oil our side, and it is a great 
consolation to know that our great captain (whom 
may Heaven preserve) purposes, so far as possible, 
to make it a humane war. But under any circum¬ 
stances war is a fearful evil—civil war, doubly so. 
Let us endeavor, therefore, to banish, as far as 
possible, all private hate and personal animosity; 
and while we aim to chastise our mistaken foes, 
let it be like the correction by a loving parent of 
an erring child—more in sorrow than in anger— 
ever praying God to give them repentance and 
better minds. Amen. 


COLLECTS 


0 MOST powerful and glorious Lord God, tlie 
Lord of Hosts, tliat rulest and commandest 
all things: Thou sittest in the throne judging 
right, and therefore we make our appeal to Thy 
Divine Majesty, in this our trouble, that Thou 
wouldst take the cause into Thine own hand. Stir 
up Thy strength, O Lord, and come and help us. 
Save and defend our country in this its hour of 
peril. Revive in all hearts a spirit of devotion to 
the public good. Let Thy Divine Protection and 
Guidance be over all who serve in Council or in the 
Field, and so rule their hearts and strengthen their 
hands that they may preserve to us the goodly 
Heritage which Thou gavest to our Fathers. Mer¬ 
cifully forgive the grevious sins which have drawn 
Thy judgments upon us. Help us to look to Thee 
in all our troubles and adversities, and at last to 
rejoice in the greatness of Thy Salvation, through 
the merits and mediation of our blessed Lord and 
Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen . 

0 ETERNAL GOD and Heavenly Father, the 
Aid of all who need, the Helper of all who 
flee to Thee for succor: We commend to Thy 
Almighty Protection all those Thy servants now 



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gone forth in our defence, for whose preservation 
amid the perils of war our prayers are desired. 
Guard them we beseech Thee, from the dangers 
that beset their way, from sickness, from the vio¬ 
lence of enemies, and from every evil to which 
they may be exposed. Give them comfort and 
sure confidence in Thee; and of Thy great good¬ 
ness restore them to us in due time, in peace and 
safety, with a grateful sense of Thy mercy, through 
Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen. 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


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